I took Chloe to the grocery store today and she sat up front trying desperately to escape her metal cell, high chair Houdini-style the entire journey up and down every aisle.
Among other things, I picked up some (shhhhhhh) “feminine products” and threw the gigantic package right on top of all of the produce, proudly displaying it as we wandered the store. I giggled to myself about how I used to hide such items underneath loaves of bread or six bags of milk. Why? It’s really anyone’s guess. It is one of those taboo items people require to exist; food, shelter, clothing, tampons, but for some reason, women feel the need to bury them under their hairy mole cream, skin tag remover and club pack of condoms.
Maybe it’s because we fear people will react to any inconsistency in our mood as we walk around the store, kicking a bum wheel or cursing because the expiry date on our favourite yogurt has passed so we’re careful not to give anyone the satisfaction when porting these products around.
Nowadays, I feel as though I’m carting around a trophy. “Look who’s not pregnant! Yippee!!!” I do question though, why the manufacturers feel the need to print the word “JUMBO!” in larger font than any other word on the packaging. Surely there was at least one objection during that marketing pitch.
By the third aisle, Chloe was ready for a cracker fix and there was no keeping her contained. Act calm I kept telling myself. You know what’s in your cart, don’t lose your cool.
I looked for some crackers but I was in the organic section, specifically the “gluten free” aisle. I might be the only person who is not familiar with gluten free products because I’ve never (to my knowledge) had a gluten intolerance. I feared the very thing found in gluten that wreaks havoc on some people’s digestive systems might have the exact opposite effect in those who aren’t offended by it. Not the presence of gluten but the absence that could make us sick. Do I risk opening a box of gluten-free nut-thins and having the baby break out in a rash? Wait. She already has one. Gluten?
As I exited the store, feeling proud of my full cart, the baby resting comfortably on the pillow she’d made of my gigantic package of pads, a twelve pack of tonic water slid off the rack on the bottom of the cart and into the parking lot but not before I had a chance to muscle the cart right over top of it, crushing nine of the twelve cans. Tonic started spritzing through the box, into my face and cans (those still full) rolled out in various directions towards parked cars and eager shoppers with a keen sense of can rolling direction hopped to avoid the bowling pins so they could get started on their gluten free shopping.
A woman knelt down to help and started collecting cans and throwing them out. She glanced at the baby, her pillow and the word “JUMBO!” and gave me a warm smile and a polite nod.
Like a couple of pros, we carried on. A happy baby, three full cans of tonic, a Jumbo-sized pillow and loads of time for a skip on the beach or a horse back ride.
